


Dancing on my own

by Lalalaartje



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angsty Draco Malfoy, Drabble, F/M, Gay Draco Malfoy, M/M, Pining Draco Malfoy, Unrequited Love, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 12:01:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29808096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lalalaartje/pseuds/Lalalaartje
Summary: Just an angsty Draco drabble that came to mind when this song came on during my commute.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Pansy Parkinson/Harry Potter
Comments: 6
Kudos: 20





	Dancing on my own

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MoonlitMarauder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonlitMarauder/gifts).



> [Dancing on my own](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q31tGyBJhRY)
> 
> This piece of angst is a gift to the most wonderful Moony, bc he's the best Drarry angst enabler I've ever met!

Draco knew the day would be torture, and he had been absolutely right. Yet, there had been no escaping it. He was her man of honour, for fuck’s sake. Of course, because him just being there hadn’t been bad enough already. 

At least it was almost over now. He had taken a seat at one of the back tables, having walked away from the main one as soon as dinner was over and the dancing had commenced. Theo sat on his right side, Blaise on his left. At least they knew he was miserable and why, and were docile enough to keep their mouths shut and commiserate in silence. Not to mention the constant refill of his glass of Dragon’s brandy. Good mates, they were.

Pansy didn’t know. Of course not, how could he ever tell her that he was madly in love with her boyfriend, then fiancé, and now husband? He couldn’t. Of course he couldn’t.

He watched her sway on the dance floor, her cream colored lace dress prettily fanning out from her hips as she looked at her newly wedded husband with the most disgusting heart eyes he had ever seen. Well. Apart from his own as he caught his reflection in the window during one of Pansy’s Friday dinners. Had he ever thought those nights were torture, they were merely a children’s party compared to this.

The worst part was, he was every bit as besotted as she was. If Draco had ever had the slightest doubt about his feelings for his best friend, he’d have acted on it. He’d have interfered, told her to let him go and find someone else, and then… maybe… after a decent while… 

But it didn’t matter, because a fool could see that Harry loved Pansy as much as she loved him. 

The irony of it all wasn’t lost on him though. Draco had been pining for Harry for years, when he had finally decided, with only a little bit of pushing from Theo and Blaise, to tell him about it. 

It had been their annual camping trip, some crazy Gryffindor tradition that they had kept up and roped all of the Slytherins into when their friend groups had merged through the year. It was always good fun though, and Draco had planned to get Harry alone at the campfire. The day of hiking and fishing would have to suffice to gather that last bit of courage and ease the black haired man into an intimate conversation.

There had been a campfire, and Draco had been sitting in front of it for almost an hour when he had started wondering if he had missed his opportunity. It had been a long day after all, maybe Harry was tired and had gone to bed already.

Feeling the discouragement flood his veins, he stood up, bid everyone left at the fire good night and headed towards the rudimentary bathroom to brush his teeth. 

It had been quiet enough that he almost didn’t hear it. But every now and then, a loud gasp or a quiet moan drowned out the sounds of his toothbrush. He had been more curious than anything. Already smirking at the thought of some juicy gossip to share over breakfast the next day, he quickly put away his things and followed the sounds to their source in the large industrial kitchen. The harsh lighting in the kitchen was off, but the fixtures in the scullery made their shadows stand out sharply against the background. 

His smile died on his lips as soon as he saw them, writhing together in a heated snog. He didn’t need much light to recognise them. He knew Pansy since he was two years old, and he had watched Harry more often than he dared to admit. 

He shut his eyes tightly before he finally made his legs work, turning around and running out of the kitchen, hiding in his bed under the covers where he lay awake until long after everyone had come to bed. 

Three years later, here he was, still unreformable in love with Harry. Still suffering in silence because of it.

He watched as they shared a sweet kiss, and couldn’t stop the humourless chuckle escaping his lips as he thought of one of the muggle songs Harry had let him listen too once.

_ I’m in the corner, watching you kiss her  _

_ And I’m right over here, why can’t you see me? _

_ I’m giving it my all _

_ But I’m not the guy you’re taking home _

_ I keep dancing on my own _

As the lights came on, he drained his glass, and stood up. His knees felt a bit unsteady, but he still managed to stand and even walk over to the happy couple, reaching them before any of the other guests who would all come to say goodbye and wish them luck.

He smiled, and even if he was certain it was a wavering smile, neither of his friends commented on it. 

“Congratulations,” he whispered, for the umpteenth time that day, as he held first Pansy, and then Harry close. 

It was hard to let go of Harry, but he managed before it got awkward, gave them both a last smile and turned, leaving the venue without looking back. 

_ So far away, but still so near _

_ The lights come on, the music dies _

_ But you don't see me standing here _

_ I just came to say goodbye _

_ I’m giving it my all _

_ But I’m not the guy you’re taking home _

_ I’ll keep dancing on my own _


End file.
